


Cloudy, with a chance of confession

by sebviathan



Series: in between the lines (there's a lot of obscurity) [2]
Category: Psych
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Tag, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, s01e12 cloudy with a chance of murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5197412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebviathan/pseuds/sebviathan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While out at lunch together, Juliet makes an observation about the current case. It leads to a conversation that Carlton regrets before it's even over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cloudy, with a chance of confession

**Author's Note:**

> _"You know, Shawn, for a psychic, you are missing something right in front of your face. It's too bad, you might actually learn something about Lassiter. Maybe you don't want to."_

"You know, you've been awfully...  _not_  hostile about Shawn working the opposite end of this case."

It's hardly an accusation—more of a casual observation—but it still feels a bit like one. Thankful for the excuse that a mouthful of burger allows him, Carlton looks up from his lunch slowly and takes a second to respond.

"Well, it's not really a case."

"The opposite end of the  _trial_ , then," Juliet says, raising an eyebrow just slightly. "Is it really not bothering you all of a sudden?"

"You're the one always telling me that I should trust him more," he shoots back.

"And you always tell me that you'd sooner eat your badge than believe that he's a real psychic."

"Which is still true, but that doesn't mean I can't trust Spencer at all."

"So...?"

Carlton sighs. He might as well be honest.

"So we're not on opposite sides. I... agree with him." The way his partner smiles, then, gives him the impression that she knew all along. " _For the record_ , O'Hara," he adds, "I had doubts about Panitch long before Spencer got involved. You can look through the case files if you want proof—there should be a memo I sent in there somewhere."

And because he is the way he is, and Juliet is the way  _she_  is, she does look. Any notion of Carlton and Spencer having the same opinion about a case is reasonably unbelievable, so he's not surprised.

"You could have told him that you couldn't find a motive on Sandra Panitch," she tells him once she closes the file. "If you really believe she's innocent, that could help her defense."

"I didn't say I believed that she's innocent, I said I had doubts. And—okay, if he's really psychic, then shouldn't he already know?"

Rather than answering that, Juliet leans back in her seat, takes a sip of soda, and smirks.

"You know what I think?"

Carlton frowns warily in lieu of a response.

"I think Shawn's rubbed off on you a little bit." And he opens his mouth to deny it, but she cuts him off—"Maybe you don't see it since you're looking at it from the inside, but I've watched from the  _outside_  for the past several months. I mean, I think he's rubbed off on the entire department. And as much as you probably hate it, that includes you. You're a little less of a hardass than when I first transferred. So am I."

She then shrugs like it's no big deal, but she's right. Carlton can't help but wonder if he would have so readily doubted his initial ruling on Panitch if not for Spencer's influence—just like he's been making him doubt so many other things since he showed up, about his work and himself.

Juliet's probably also right about him changing everyone. He often imagines all the places Spencer's lived and worked before, how none of them lasted longer than a few months at the  _most_ , and how he probably still changed everyone. Just rode in, made a space in a handful of lives, and rode right back out like it was nothing. Probably broke a lot of hearts on the way.

It makes him feel sure that the same thing will happen to all of them—that Spencer will get bored and leave like he's done fifty other times. Which is why—Juliet's right again—he  _hates_  it.

"Honestly, I think it's cute," she continues, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"What's cute?"

"You, secretly rooting for him in the trial. Vouching for him and everything."

"I would have been inhibiting justice by refusing to," he argues. "And I wouldn't say I'm  _rooting_  for him—"

"Well, you're on his side without him realizing."

"I'm just... hoping to see him solve it on his own."  _Because I couldn't do it myself,_  he adds mentally, and Juliet smiles knowingly.

"Aw, you believe in him!"

"O'Hara," he says with a sharp look, noticing a couple people glance over. He regrets allowing their lunch conversation to escalate this far.

At that, she raises her hands defensively and sinks a bit into her seat.

"Sorry, but can you blame me for getting a little excited? I'm getting to see a whole new side of you. Which, now that I think about it, should be concerning, since you're my partner and we're supposed to know everything about each other."

"I think I'm allowed to have some secrets," he counters. "As long as it's less to do with not trusting you and more that I simply don't feel the need to express every thought that pops into my mind. Unlike Spencer."

Carlton promptly stuffs the last bite of hamburger into his mouth, hoping that makes it clear that he's finished talking about this.

Juliet, however, seems to have one more thing to say before grabbing some fries:

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd guess you were hiding more than just trust when it comes to Shawn."

He pauses a moment and then scoffs—but in the next second, it becomes apparent that that pause was a mistake.

Or maybe all the prodding just made him more prone to being obvious.

"Oh my god," Juliet mutters, staring wide-eyed at him as he stiffens. A grin slowly creeps on her face. "Oh my god, you  _are_."

To anyone else Carlton would deny it to his grave, but this is his partner, and this  _would_  be a matter of whether or not he trusts her. Which, in spite of how short of a time he's known her and his lingering bitterness over his last partner, he does.

Not only that, but he's blushing too much in spite of himself. It would be pointless to lie.

"It's just a stupid crush," he finally admits, absolutely refusing to look anywhere in the vicinity of her face. Instead his eyes focus on the overcast sky outside the window, which serves as a vague distraction from the waves of self-loathing he's feeling.

Juliet doesn't seem to notice them, either, in her shock.

"I—holy shit, Carlton, how  _long_?"

He could tell her that it's none of her business and she'd probably drop it, but he himself has wondered that, lately.

 _Since I met him?_  No—even if it's true, he couldn't bear to be that open.

_Since he solved that first case? Since he sat on my lap and pretty much effortlessly got me aroused? Since he told me I astounded him?_

"About a month," he ends up telling her, glancing back to the table so he can see her in his peripheral.

She frowns to herself as though to try to remember something, and realizes a moment later—"The speed-dating case?"

He just jerks his head in a small nod.

"...Was it the H&Ks thing?"

Carlton faces her all the way, then, expression set. And hopefully not as red as he feels.

"I'm not gonna have this conversation, O'Hara. And it's not because I don't trust you—it's because I'm sure that this is some stupid fluke, just like most feelings are, and it's going to pass in a week or so."

"You're talking about it like it's a disease," she says with an incredulous sort of laugh.

"It might as well be—this is  _Spencer_  we're talking about. As... unbelievable as his deductive reasoning is, he's a liar and a fraud. You can disagree but that's how I see it. And by the way, this trial has nothing to do with whatever  _completely irrational_  feelings I might have."

 _It has a little to do with it,_  her eyes seem to taunt him. She'd be right.

She doesn't seem to believe his insistence that this is temporary, either, but that doesn't matter. Carlton was saying it much more for himself.

After almost a full minute of silence between them (in which Juliet finishes her own lunch), she leans forward with a look of sympathy.

"I will say one thing; even if you don't like them, it's comforting for me to know you're capable of feelings of that nature."

"You're welcome," he responds gruffly. "Now can we never talk about this again?"

"Of course."

"...And I probably don't have to say this, but—"

"I'm  _not_  going to tell him about it." She sounds offended at the notion, which is a relief. "Gus, either."

"No one," he presses.

"No one," she agrees. "But—sorry, this is the  _last_  I'll say about it, but if he's psychic, shouldn't he already know?"

"Now you know why I don't believe him."

She doesn't say anything after that, but part of him regrets mentioning it. Almost more than he regrets confessing in the first place.

Within a few minutes the check is paid, and they're out of the diner and into the car so they can start on their way to the courthouse. And in those few minutes the sky seems to have darkened considerably.

_Zero percent chance of rain my ass._

 

_*_

 

He thinks of it as a sort of reward for keeping an innocent woman from being convicted for murder.

No stupid, over-the-top visions, either. Minimal jackassery and unnecessary flailing, as far as he could tell—just plain old brilliant observation. And... if he's being honest, an impressive courtroom performance. Spencer would probably make a good lawyer.

(Not that he ever had much respect for lawyers.)

Carlton pulls the money out of his own pocket to pay the fines—money that he's been saving up, but it feels like a good cause. There's a little flirting on his end as well, in order to get the bike taken out of the auction this late.

The self-preserving side of himself (which is most of him) tells him that it's a bad idea. He's giving Spencer back the one thing he'd need if he decided he wanted to up and leave Santa Barbara.

But it's also the thing that allows him to get to the station, or to crime scenes half the time.

It's the self-preservation talking, once again, when Carlton convinces himself that his crush still has nothing to do with this.


End file.
